When Souls are Broken
by AnimeLover137
Summary: "It doesn't take much for a heart to be broken," the boy said, "and when they break, people change, into a totally different person."
1. Prologue

When Souls are broken

Prologue

* * *

"It's almost fascinating how fragile a heart can be."

The screen flickers to life. It shows a small square room, small and conceal without any sign of windows or air holes. It is dark and ominous.

A figure sits on a chair, slumps halfway down in boredom. A boy, he wears a black button-down shirt without the top buttons done, the loose tie around his neck is poorly knotted.

A shade of shadow casts over his face, but it is clear that he is sighing.

"Even the most battle-hardened warrior can have his soul shattered, no one is exceptional."

He is staring sadly at the scroll he has on his hands.

"Love, always the downfall of most men." He frowns and leans back against the seat.

 _A blond boy stands in a dimly lit hallway, his empty gaze lingers on a couple around the corner. A blue male and snowy white haired stand face to face, both are blushing and grinning._

 _The male gives the girl his hand and she gladly takes it._

 _The bundle of flowers in the blonde's grasp crushed from his clench fist._

The screen dies.

"Poor boy." The boy in the dark mutters sympathetically.

The walls of the room cracked.

The scene changes. This time it shows a dining hall.

 _Splat!_

 _The blonde stiffens as the body of students laughed. Taunts are thrown and the boy endures._

 _This time a pie crashes on his head, and the volume increases._

 _The boy's team watches at the silent boy in pity, his partner reaches out for his shoulder but he shrugs it off and keeps on eating his sandwich._

 _His dull blue eyes waters._

The scene freezes and the room shudders, cracks spreads and debris fall from the ceiling. None hit the still sitting figure.

He says nothing, but his grip on device tightens.

The screen flickers for the final time.

 _It is still set in the dining hall, except this time students are crowded around a particular table._

" _Jaune Arc! The coward that cheats his way in Beacon with forged transcript! No wonder he is such a failure!" A bulky brunette bellows as he tosses copies of the blonde's transcript in the air._

 _The crowd scream and rage, fingers are pointed and harsh words are spoken._

 _The boy's friend seems to be in shock, eyes wide._

 _His faithful partner reached out to pull the boy into a hug, but he stepped back from reach._

 _The boy turns and run, just like a coward._

The screen cracks and shatters.

It is the final straw.

The room shakes and groans. It collapses.

Yet, the boy remains sitting, looking at the pieces of the broken device.

"Poor, poor boy…"

And the screen fades out.

* * *

He woke up in the middle of nowhere. It didn't worry him. Nothings actually really matters at this point.

It was devoid of anything, but he could feel the sturdy floor he was standing on. The void stretched as far as naked eyes could see.

There was a single light source. A door, to be exact. It was slightly pushed open as if tempting him to walk through it.

"Go on."

He tilted his head slightly to the source.

A boy, he stood casually beside him with his hands in his pockets.

The boy stared at him wordlessly, and he stared back blankly.

"You've endured enough, things have been hard for you since the very start, it's almost a miracle how far you gotten yourself. You should be proud."

The boy smiled.

"But everything has their limits, some boundaries not meant to be overstepped."

The smile turned bitter.

"You've tried to improve yourself worthy. While you might have cheated yourself in the academy, but you have the strongest desire of all to become stronger. You are never a burden to your team, you are a leader. After all, what good is an army without their commander?"

"But how do they return the favour?" There was clear distaste in his voice, "some mocked you, some bullied you, most see you nothing but a failure. Every time in battle they see you useless as a civilian, unable to defend yourself against enemies, but they never acknowledge you as a worthy tactician that had plans that saved their lives plenty of times."

"No matter how hard you try, they'll never see you as a warrior, they will always see you as a coward."

"You've done your part, and it is time for you to rest."

He moved for the first time in this realm. He started towards the blinding light with shaking legs. He reached out for the door knob.

"You can go home now."

He pushed open the door, he froze mid-step through the door.

"Do you think they will forgive me? For leaving them?"

The boy smiled, heartbreaking into pieces as he bit out the lie.

"Yes, they will."

He turned and grinned, it's a broken one. It tore a hole through the boy's chest.

"Thank you."

And Jaune Arc is gone.

"Night night, Jaune."

And the boy was all alone.

"I'll fulfil your dream in your place."

 _To become the best Hunter in Remnant._

* * *

Prologue end

" _The heart was made to be broken." - Oscar Wilde_


	2. Chapter 1

When Souls are Broken

Chapter one

* * *

Jackson woke up just as the clock was ten seconds away from ringing. He slapped the button of the alarm and groaned.

He sat up, his long blonde hair with a few white strands fell down and concealed his face like a curtain. It was a lot longer than he had allowed himself grow, but he had this strange fashion sense that ponytailed males could radiate an aura of elegance if he wears the correct attire.

He stretched and felt a few bones pop. Satisfied, he grabbed his band and clothes before heading to the showers.

The cool water shuddered him awake and prepared him for the day. After drying his silky hair with a towel, he dressed himself with a buttoned up shirt and black trousers, he buttoned up till the neck and tightened his red tie around the collar. That done, he threw on his black vest.

Jackson stared back at the digital clock hung on the wall.

7:55.

Just in time.

He jogged down stairs and while securing his strands of blonde hair with his band in a simple ponytail.

Handkerchief in breast pocket?

Check.

His pocket knife in hidden pocket on his trousers?

Check.

A dazzling and inviting smile on his face?

Check.

He opened his door and walked into the café. Jackson flipped the sign on the window.

OPEN!

It's another busy day for the blonde. He didn't hate his job, he loved it. Smelling the addicting flavor of coffee bean whenever he brews; the calm and comforting silence during work; the short conversation that would spark occasionally between him and a customer.

He loved being a manger of a café, warmth would blossom in his chest whenever he saw a person sighing contently after taking a sip of his coffee. He enjoyed this pleasant quietness. He would smile if someone else is happy.

Jaune loved coffee. Back in their town, the boy would dash to the nearest café after school for a cup of coffee. In his eleventh birthday, he literally cried tears of joy when their parents bought him a coffee machine as a birthday present. And since then, he had at least drunk three cup of coffee every day. He had grown so accustomed to it he breath a faint scent of coffee no matter how much he brushed his teeth.

Jackson, just like Jaune, was just as much of a lover of coffee, maybe it was that they shared the same brain and body. And so when he arrived Mistral after the year of traveling, the first thing he did was to sell out all the dust crystals he had collected from a dust mine and use the vast amount of Lien to buy a spot in the street.

It almost cost him all the money he had on him, but it was definitely worth it. The whole building was two stories tall, the second floor was for him to live and the ground floor was the café, it was fairly large enough for a standard café.

The first month was not that successful, the appearance of the café was not very appealing to public eyes. There was merely wooden chairs and tables, a small glass panel for people to peer in and out of the café. The sign was hastily nailed to the building and the words are sprayed.

But then a very influent article writer came along. The man took a sip of the coffee while reading a newspaper, the liquid floated down his throat and he widened his eyes. "Fantastic!" he had screamed at the top of his lungs.

Since then, the café Punk had been flood with people.

A faint ringing of the bell sounded from the door.

"Welcome to— Rain, you're late again." A frown adorned his face.

A brunette was leaning heavily on the doorframe, panting and choking.

"It's the fifth time of the month. Come in and close the door."

The boy did as he as he was told. Rain pulled out a chair and fell upon it.

"Careful, you'll break the legs." Jackson went back and wiped a cup clean.

Rain took a few more seconds to regain his bearings, "Sorry manager, I slept in."

"With your girlfriend? Did she ride you hard last night? Hardcore sex?" the boy blushed, but nodded and rubbed his small in the back, "let me guess, you hurt your back again."

"She almost broke my back."

"Aggressive female, every single time you slept with her she would either leave a love bite on your neck or cause you a sore back. By the way, your collar isn't covering the mark on your neck."

The boy cursed and hurriedly pulled up his collar to conceal the red mark on the side of his neck.

"Get to work, or I'll cut your salary by half until the next pay." Rain scrambled to his feet and jogged in the backroom.

The door opened once again, and this time Jackson greeted the couple with a bright smile.

"Welcome to Punk."

* * *

People claimed the time flies faster when you are happy. It is true.

For Jackson, it seemed that it had only been hours seen the first customer came through the door, but in reality, it was already evening.

Jackson would've continue serving the few customers still presented until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Rain, his eyes narrowed in exhaustion and his breathing was slightly heavier than usual.

At this gesture, Jackson finally glanced at the clock.

9:57, edging the closing time.

Sighing, Jackson nodded and shrugged off the boy's hand. He clapped loudly to catch the people's attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as much as I like your company, I'm afraid that we will be closing soon." He heard a few groans and saw nods of understanding, he smiled.

"Have a good night, my friends." Faunus and humans waved back as they left through the door, chatting like old time friends without discriminations, it was a heartwarming scene to see no barriers between the two species.

The blonde flipped the sign so that the side printed with 'CLOSE' is facing the glass.

He turned to Rain, who was seated on a couch in the backroom, no doubt tired from the day's event.

"Rain, you're free to go. Just remember not to sleep in tomorrow, and tell your girlfriend to keep her love bites away from the face and neck." The boy nodded and grabbed his bag and left through the backdoor, waving as he closed the door.

And he was alone. Noticing for the first time that his stomach was rumbling from hunger, he sheepishly rubbed his abdomen and headed into the kitchen to cook himself a simple dinner.

He took a couple eggs from the fridge and a small chocolate muffin.

 _Ding._

The bell from the door rang. Jackson leaned back and tilted his head to face the door, "I'm sorry, but we are closed…" he flattered upon seeing the visitor.

"Jackson." The man at the door greeted, he removed his bowl-hat and allowed his grey hair glint under the light.

The younger café manager sighed, "Royce, I thought we have an agreement. If you're going to ask what I am thinking right now, you might as well leave now."

"White Fang's on the move." Jackson stiffened and his façade molded to a serious one.

"Come in. I'll prepare us some coffee." the man closed the door behind his back softly and Jackson placed his dinner back into the fridge. He poured himself and Royce a cup of coffee from a steaming pot.

The boy placed the coffee on a random desk before heading over to pulled the curtains to prevent any prying eavesdropper from sneaking into the café.

That done, the blonde sat across the man on a table, he crossed his arms and leaned back on the chair.

"Spill now, I don't have all day." The older man raised his eyebrow.

"I'll keep this as brief as possible, I assume you've heard about Adam Taurus?" Jackson nodded to confirm. "It appears that he was seen yesterday midnight around the alleys with a few seemingly White Fangs members."

"Adam Taurus? You sure?"

"It's hard to miss out a man with red hair and a grimm mask."

"Fair point. But nonetheless, the Vytal tournament is approaching. Ever since the last accident in the previous tournament, the defense and security has doubled and almost impossible to penetrate. It's impossible for me to believe that the White Fang would make a risky move during this time." Jackson took a cup of coffee, humming in pleasure the flavor danced on his tongue.

"Normally, you would be correct. But it is quite clear that they are growing impatient and desperate. As you know, the last invasion attempt 2 years before had hit them harder than we've expected." The man laced his fingers together, "Their estimated members were cut in half, and they were lacking in Lien; the frequent robberies on banks shortly after the failed incursion has proven that point."

"There's one thing I don't understand if what you said are correct: why are they desperate though? They've been around for decades, and never once they've acted recklessly, they plan and attack accordingly. Adam might be aggressive, but he's not a person that let emotions steer his decisions." The younger boy cracked his index finger.

Royce sighed and took out his scroll from his sleeve, "That… I might have a clue." With practiced movements, the headmaster of Haven navigated his scroll before handing the device to the boy.

Jackson raised an eyebrow when he stared at the screen, "Lark… Shain?"

"He's a third-year hunter-in-training attending Haven academy. He seemed ordinary enough at first glance, his transcript spoke volume of the boy. But then recently he has unlocked his semblance with the help of one of our teachers. The ability was… disturbing to say the least."

"What's his semblance?" he was curious. One's semblance represents their soul, it reflected the person who he or she was. He had learned at least that much during his travel.

"His semblance, is Grimm Control."

If a pin dropped, everyone in the café could've heard it.

"…so, he can tame a grimm?" Jackson asked uncomfortably.

"It's a lot more than that. It's more like controlling the grimms, he gives an order, and the soulless would not hesitate to obey. After all, they're mindless beasts only craving for blood." The man flicked his finger on the screen and showed a video.

"To make it worse, he can mass control a lot of grimms." The young manager could sense dread in the older man's voice.

In the video, a ravenette sat on a clearing with a few recognizable teachers clearing supervising, he could see a mop of distinctive grey hair from the headmaster.

The boy, Lark seemed to be mediating on the spot, his face frowned in concentration. Then all of a sudden, a wave of ominous black aura exploded from his figure, startling a couple teachers near the boy.

The aura radiated from the boy in waves, so dense that it was hardly transparent. Under the boy, grass and earth alike seemed to rot under the intensive pressure.

Then a howl pierced through the clearing, though it was slightly muffled through the scroll's speaker. The teachers minus Royce readied their weapons as a lone Beowolf appeared on the edge of the forest clearing.

It multiplied, Beowolf became Beowolves, a few Ursas approached, growling threateningly at the Beowolves, but made no sign to attack.

Jackson sucked in a breath as a King Taijitu writhed its way between trees around the forest. It was not the worst, more and more grimms appeared; Boarbatusks crashed through trees line fencepost, Nevermores flapped their wings furiously as they eyed the small group of pathetic humans, Deadstalker crushed the smaller grimms under its weight as it clawed its way to the clearing.

To say that it was a terrifying sight was an understatement. At this point the trees were barely visible under the horde of black mass of fur and muscles. The screen shook as more grimms marched their way to the clearing.

The teachers were sweating, some of the lesser Hunters were on the verge of fainting judging the way they were swaying on their feet.

Countless pairs of red eyes glared at the group, hostile with intent of promised death. Yet strangely, none attacked.

Finally, the boy stood up from his spot, defiance even under the stares of the monsters. He raised his right arm, lifted his finger and did a swirl.

Jackson almost dropped his coffee as all grimms spun in unison in a perfect circle. The earth dented and groaned under the paws and claws of the beasts.

The boy then waved his hand in a dismissing manner, shooing the grimms away as if they were prying kids.

The grimms turned and fled. The field roared as the beasts ran and echoed throughout the café.

In matter of seconds, the stomping of the beasts ceased. The boy dropped and laid limp on the spot. None of the teachers made a move to catch him as they were still in shock of the near death experience they had just gone through.

The screen blinked and died.

"…I think that was way more than 'a lot', Royce," the manager of Punk muttered as his gaze lingered, "There was more than a hundred of them, not to mention that there were still a lot more coming." Royce was silent, his cup of coffee still untouched.

"The council has been notified about this. Half of them wants him dead, another half wants him to be locked up as a laboratory mouse for investigating. They're panicking." His voice thick with distress and rage, "however, dangerous or not, I will not let my students treated like an animal because of this nonsense."

Jackson stared at the scowling headmaster; he was a good fair man, an honored swordsman that survived countless encounters with the most dangerous ancient grimms. He might act stern and formal in the presence of his students to put up with his fame, but deep down he was a weary old man who wanted nothing but to defend his people and students.

"It makes perfect sense that White Fang wanted to get their hands on this boy; he is literally the one that has the choice to decide the fate for Remnant from the grimms."

"It would be the end for us if he falls to the dark side."

"Indeed, he is too valuable to fall into the hands of White Fang."

The older man nodded and reclaimed his scroll from the desk, "I have already deployed two of my best trained Hunters to shadow-guard the boy, and I have forbidden him to leave the school ground at the moment."

"You're caging him in?"

"It's either that or risk the chances of him captured." The man replied and tapped on his scroll, "that's beside the point. The problem is, his team is selected to be one of the teams to take part in the Vytal Festival in Mistral, which is in the coming month."

"Wait, he's partaking the Tournament? I thought you want to keep him perfectly secured and safe."

"Actually, Lark unlocked his semblance after he is selected to participate the tournament. If I knew it beforehand I would never allow him to leave unsupervised 24 hours a day, let alone participating a grand tournament.

"This is…troublesome." The man exhaled explosively, he suddenly seemed to age a decade.

"That's why I need you. I cannot just go ahead and cross their names from the list, they've seriously earned it. It will be unfair to both the team and the other students if they are suddenly disqualified, not to mention the crowd."

"I still don't see why I'm need."

"I'm getting there, one of their teammates has been crippled an arm from a mission, he is still in hospital treated and is in no condition to take part in the Vytal tournament. Due to his inability to attend the tournament, the team is currently one person short." Royce looked up, his piercing grey eyes gleamed, "I think you can put the pieces together."

Jackson sat on the chair silently. Normally he would stay out of this kind of shit, he preferred a peaceful life as a café manager, one that would not put his life on a gamble like how he did in the past year in the wilderness; he had enough action in one lifetime. But if what Royce said were all true, then all humans and faunus would be annihilated, and Remnant would be in ruins as grimms truly becomes the dominant species.

Besides, he did make a promise, an oath to keep the world safe. While he might not be as naïve as his counterpart, he was by no means not heartless.

"I'll do it." Royce smiled as he finally raised his mug and gulped all the liquid in one go.

"Excellent, I knew you would agree," the man said satisfactorily and placed down the finished mug on the table, "I'll inform the team. Your present would be needed the day after tomorrow. I had already send the details to your scroll." Royce reequipped his trench coat and placed the bowl-hat back on. He made his way to the exit.

"And Jackson?" the boy raised an eyebrow, "try refrain from spreading the news to the public. The least we need now is to lose control of the society."

"Will do." Jackson grinned as the man closed the door.

"Well, I certainly didn't see that coming." The manager of the café sighed as he cleaned the table.

* * *

 _The child was alone in the room. His head tilted so that his dark bangs covered his eyes as he stared at the doll in his hands._

 _It was an ominous doll; it was made of old cotton with feathers sticking out from some torn small holes. It was designed simply, a bald head, legs and arms._

 _Its eyes were strings stitched in a cross, its mouth twisted in a deep frown stitched in a familiar manner like the eyes._

 _The boy looked up and glanced around the room._

" _Where's mama?"_

 _The boy stood up unsteadily with his still undeveloped legs, with great effort he stumbled his way through the open door and down the hallway._

 _He poked his head around the corner just like he always did when he played hide and seek with his beloved mother, he stared into the dimly lit living room, he smelled something funny and wrinkled his nose._

 _Two figures stood beside a fallen body, limp and unmoving as red liquid pooled under its body. A still kitchen knife stuck on its back._

 _The two cloaked figures turned and jumped out of the window silently. Their footsteps almost inaudible as they paced in the desolated night street._

 _The hiding boy emerged from the darkness. He approached the fallen body._

 _It was his mother, her eyes opened and mouth wide in a silent scream, probably in agony or anguish._

 _The child scoffed as the red water stained his bare feet._

 _He kneeled and shook his mother's shoulder._

" _Mama, wake up." He applied more force, but to no avail she was still a boneless heap on the wooden floor, "you'll catch a cold, go sleep on your bed."_

 _Silent._

" _Mama? Wake up please, you're scaring me."_

* * *

Chapter One End

" _I don't want to be famous. I like to be able to sit in a café and watch the world go by and observe people." - Sophia Myles_

 ** _As you all see, I kinda rewrote the chapter, since it was not going the way I wanted it. This is a lot better in my opinion, I hope you all still like this story._**


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